25 Days of Christmas
by KHansen
Summary: 25 prompts for 25 days of Christmas.
1. Day 1: Mistletoe

"Hey, Doctor?" Rose calls from the bowels of my glorious ship.

I sigh, pulling myself from underneath the console. Said glorious ship has been decorating for Christmas (I have no idea why) and Rose and I just keep finding more and more hidden decorations that make us wildly uncomfortable.

"Yes, Rose? What is it?" I brush any dirt from my pinstriped trousers and climb ungracefully to my feet. This body seems to be rather lanky and _un_graceful.

Rose is quiet for a moment before piping up, in a slightly subdued voice, "Erm, ne'er mind. Go back to tinkerin' 'r whatever you're doin'."

Of course she had to go and say _that_. Now my interest is piqued. I straighten my tie (the one with the swirls on it. Rose gave it to me when I first regenerated as a gift) and pull my jacket on to go investigate. After a brief game of hide-and-seek with the TARDIS (That ends in me yelling at her to get me to Rose) I find said human furiously scrubbing at a counter top in the kitchen, her pink face less pink than bright red.

"Rose?" She startles, the blood draining from her face before returning in full force.

She leans over the counter and covers whatever was on it with her torso, her pale breasts pushing together to show off her impressive cleavage—

I shake my head to clear it, "What're you doing?"

"Ah, er, nothin'." She tries a bright smile, the effect of which is diminished considerably by her crimson face, "Jus'… cleanin'."

"Cleaning."

"Yeah. Fig'red the countertops needed to be… cleaned. What with you always puttin' your fingers in the jam jars before touching everythin'."

"Oi! I'll have you know I always wash my hands before I touch my TARDIS," I respond indignantly. Rose's eyes widen before her face flushes even deeper. And then she raises a single eyebrow.

"You realize what that sounds like, yeah?"

Puzzled, I think about her words before matching her color at the euphemism, "Oh."

"Yeah, oh." Rose sits up slightly to look at the countertop. She squints and (I guess) finds it satisfactory as she stands up fully and wipes off the cleaning solution that is all over the counter and the front of her shirt. The white clothing is relatively see-through due to the fluid and her tan skin is clinging to the damp fabric. I drag my eyes away from Rose's abdomen up to her whiskey-colored eyes.  
>"You done… cleaning?" I inquire awkwardly, scratching at the back of my head.<p>

"Yeah, yeah. I don't think it's going to get any cleaner," Rose glances down again, noticing her wet shirt and flushing again, crossing her arms defensively over her chest, "I'm gonna go take a shower, yeah?"

"Right! You go do that. I'll just return to tinkering. The cleaning solution on your shirt is partially toxic and is probably eating away your skin as we speak. Be gentle when using soap on it because if you combine them too violently the chemical reaction that will ensue can burn your skin even more. I would recommend throwing that shirt away as well—"

"Doctor?"

"Maybe even burning it in the incinerator. Maybe I should get rid of that version of Clorox. It _is_ from the seventy-first century and New Earth—"

"_Doctor_."

"Funny place New Earth. In the seventy-first century all the cats in wimples have either been moved off planet or died out from disease, one of the reasons this type of Clorox exists—"

"Doctor!" Rose shouts, grabbing my attention, "As you continue to talk, this cleaner continues to make my skin tingle. Now, I'm gonna take a shower and get dressed in m'jim jams. After that I'll be in the library if y'need me." At that, Rose brushes past me, the sharp smell of Clorox bleach stinging my nose as well as the slightly acidic scent of bleached skin. I sigh again. Curious, I go over to the countertop and look at what she was scrubbing at so vigorously. Just barely visible on the white counter is a lingering painting of mistletoe.

After a good two hours or so I go to find Rose in the library, wanting to just sit with her and look at the fire. The library smells of old paper and pine trees as there are at least three new trees from Rose's century in the large library. On a sofa by the fireplace sits Rose, her blonde hair pulled back in a messy bun and flannel pajamas warming her body. Her feet are tucked up underneath her and she leans on one fist as she reads a thick tome with ease. _Stars of the Universe_ is the title of the book. The complete life of star systems and galaxies and how each are created and how they die. Complete with pictures.

I clamber over the back of the couch and gracelessly fall on the squishy furniture, banging my head on her thigh. She does not acknowledge me except for the quirk of her lips and a hand running through my hair affectionately.

"I saw the mistletoe," I offer off-handedly.

"Good for you."

"Why were you trying to wash it away?"

"Because I fig'red you wouldn't like it. I found it like that, though."

"I believe you. The TARDIS and I had a talk about all these decorations."

"I think they're nice."

I realize that I do, too.

I glance up at the ceiling to find a clump of mistletoe hanging over our heads. My head still nestled on Rose's warm leg, I point it out, "Mistletoe."

Rose glances up as well, "Well, better follow tradition," she says cheekily. Before I get the chance to ask what she means, she leans over and pecks my lips with hers lightly, lingering slightly, before pulling away and closing her book.

"Wha—?"

"G'night, Doctor." Rose stands and walks out of the library leaving me to ponder what just occurred.


	2. Day 2: Hot Chocolate

I shiver slightly in the cool corridor of the TARDIS, my flannel jim jams and fuzzy slippers not doing the job to keep me warm. Somewhere around here is the Doctor, fixing the temperature of the TARDIS. How domestic, fixing the thermostat. Of course, he'll tell you that he's fixing the Thermal Regulator with his Quad-dimensional-wrench or something of the like.

My shivering increases as I make my way to the library, one of my favorite rooms on the TARDIS alongside the butterfly garden and the pool. There are billions of books in the TARDIS's library, many of which are from the future so I can't read them without consulting the TARDIS first. But I don't mind, there are so many books here that I can't normally get my hands on without paying a crap-ton of money that I don't have.

The library is just as cold as the rest of the TARDIS, but as I draw closer to the fireplace with the ever-burning fire, the crackling flames heat the room slightly. I grab my favorite blanket and curl up in the corner of the sofa, my knees to my chest and my blanket to my chin. My teeth are chattering now as I attempt to fall asleep in front of the fire under at least three thick blankets. My body temperature must be really low.

I start contemplating getting up to make some tea in the kitchen before I decide that I don't want tea, nor do I want to embark on another shivering journey. Or more shivery journey I suppose. I close my eyes and drift in limbo, that state between sleep and consciousness.

After who knows how long, I feel the sofa dip slightly and open my eyes to see the Doctor, his jacket removed, holding two mugs of steaming goodness. I take a deep breath and smell the rich aroma of chocolate.

"Y-you made hot-t-t chocolate?" I stutter as my jaw continues to clack.

His eyes soften as I sit up, drawing the blankets around me more tightly.

"Well," he starts, his voice low, sparking a warmth in my abdomen, "I helped." The dim overhead lights lighten briefly and I smile.

"Tha-ank you," I tuck my tongue in my teeth and the Doctor smiles back at me.

"Here you are. One hot mug of hot chocolate from the planet of Chollar. The largest industry of cocoa beans in the universe," He hands me one mug, my favorite one, and take a sip.

"H-how did you kn-know that I l-like to have cinnamon in my c-c-cocoa?" I ask, taking another sip, the hot beverage warming my stomach and my throat, slowly working it's way to my limbs.

He shrugs, "I've seen you put it in your hot chocolate before and I remembered."

"I've d-drinken hot chocolate one other t-time." I raise an eyebrow, looking over the edge of the mug as I take a deeper drink and the Doctor blushes, scratching the back of his neck.

"You've got a bit of a…" the Doctor pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and shakes it open, leaning closer to me. I freeze, hoping that I don't scare him off. He dabs lightly at my lip, cleaning up the thin film of hot chocolate on my face. I'm no longer shiver. Actually, I feel rather warm.

I lean into his hand slightly and he freezes, emotions flitting through his eyes. Desire, fear, lust, reservation, and dare I even name it, love. With determination in his eyes the color of the hot chocolate, he leans forward, tilting his head slightly. I place my mug of hot chocolate on the small coffee table, leaning towards the Doctor as well. My eyes slide shut as he presses his warm lips against my own, bringing his hand up to cup my cheek, his other following for the other side. I sigh in contentment, _finally_.

I wasn't cold again that night.


	3. Day 3: Snow

"Welcome to Blaned Eira 7. One of the twelve year-round winter planets," the Doctor shows Rose the white planet outside the doors of the TARDIS. Her hazel eyes widen in wonder as she pulls the golden parka around herself more tightly against the cold breeze.

"S'beautiful," she remarks in awe at the frozen wonderland.

"Colonized by humans fourteen hundred years ago, this planet was a pleasure planet for twelve hundred years. Over those twelve hundred years, so many employees moved here that it became a colony," the Doctor informs. Rose steps out of the TARDIS to see a sleigh being pulled by a form of horse, only twice as large and with a horn on it's head.

"Is that…?"

"Yep," the Doctor pops his 'p', "A genuine unicorn. Although, it doesn't possess magical properties."

"Wow."

"Yeah," the Doctor remembers something, "Hang on." He goes back into the TARDIS for a minute before emerging with a sleek, red sled.

"No way," Rose grins, "I've never been sledding. London doesn't get 'nough snow."

"Well then, Rose Tyler," the Doctor revels in the way the syllables trip off his tongue, "Let's go for a sleigh ride."

Rose pulls a thin string of sleigh bells from her pocket and shakes them, smiling as they jingle, "The TARDIS must have left them in there." She drapes them on the sled and the both grab the handle, pulling the sled up a white hill, listening to the cheerful jangle of sleigh bells.

"_Just hear those sleigh bells jingling, ring ting tingling to_," Rose sings.

The Doctor grins, "_Come on it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you._"

"_The snow if fallin' and friends are callin' 'you-who'_."

"_Come on it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you._"

Together they chorus, "_Giddy-up, giddy-up, giddy-up let's go. Let's look at the show._"

Rose sings soprano, "_We're ridin' in a wonderland of snow._"

"_Giddy-up, giddy-up, giddy-up it's grand, just holdin' your hand_."

The Doctor's baritone adds, "_We're gliding along with a song of a wintery fairy land._"

They both know the next lyrics and hesitate singing them as they reach the top of the hill, turning the sleigh around and sitting on it. Rose in the Doctor's lap, his arms around her middle as she grips the handles in her mittened hands.

Bravely, Rose continues to sing, "_Our cheeks are rosie and comfy cozy we're snuggled up…_"

She waits for the echo and the Doctor obliges softly, "_Together_."

"_Like two birds of a feather will be_," Rose continues.

"_Let's take the road before us and sing a chorus or two,_" the Doctor sings a bit stronger, "_Come on it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you._"

He then pushes off so they zoom down the hill, Rose clutching the Doctor's gloved hands that are wound around her waist.

They both whoop in happiness and exhilaration as the blades of the sled cut through the icy snow of the ground. The frozen water droplets flinging up in flurries behind them in their wake. With a bump over a hidden rock, the sled overturns, tossing the riders into a snow drift, the Doctor's hands being yanked from Rose's.

With a pop, the Doctor's head appears from the hill of snow and shakes the flakes from his frozen hair.

"Rose?" the Doctor clambers out of the snow bank to see Rose's pink mitten poking out of the snow, "_Rose_?"

As he approaches the mitten, the wind shifts and the mitten topples off of the snow bank, empty.

_Fwpuff!_ Something hits him in the back and he turns around to see Rose briefly before another snowball hits him in the face. He wipes the melting snow from his eyes to see Rose laughing with several more snowballs in her arms.

"Oh, you've asked for it now," the Doctor grins as he scoops up a handful of snow, patting it into a ball, "I've mastered the ancient art of snowball fighting. Taught by the monks of Semakin Bertambah."

"Well I was tutored by the street urchins of the Powell Estates, where we fought valiantly with ice mush and nearly gave ourselves frostbite every winter." Rose boasts, tossing another clump of snow at the Doctor and landing it atop his hair.

"Oi! Watch the hair! That does it, this is war!" The Doctor begins throwing as many snowballs as he can, shaping them quickly. But he is no match for Rose who pelts him continuously. There is no reprieve. No break during which she forms her snowballs. And even during all of this she builds herself a wall of snow to block the Doctor's own firepower.

Suddenly, it falls silent. Cautious, the Doctor pokes his head out of a hole that he dug himself with his feet while he shaped snowballs. The enemy wall is silent as the grave, no snowballs being launched over and the faint sound of crunching snow coming from his own trainers across the frozen ground.

"Rose Tyler you better not have died," the Doctor teases playfully, hiding his irrational fear as he inches closer, "What would I tell your mother?"

"That you were beat by a girl!" she cries as she launches an enormous snowball at the Doctor's face before tackling him to the ground. She laughs triumphantly as he splutters and attempts to get free. Hooking her feet over his thighs and her knees on his shoulders, she straddles his torso, pinning him to the ground.

"It appears that you have beaten me, Rose," the Doctor tells her woefully.

"Yes, I have," Rose answers smugly, "Wait, what do you mean 'appears'?"

"Because I know Venusian Aikido!" The Doctor flips over and pins Rose to the snow, laughing as the tables turned, "Now _I_ have beaten _you_."

"You smug bastard," Rose grins, "Although I wouldn't say I've lost."

"You wouldn't?"

"Not at all," she reaches up and presses her lips to his, and he stays on top for a while.


	4. Day 4: Candy Cane

"Welcome to Blaned Eira 7. One of the twelve year-round winter planets," the Doctor shows Rose the white planet outside the doors of the TARDIS. Her hazel eyes widen in wonder as she pulls the golden parka around herself more tightly against the cold breeze.

"S'beautiful," she remarks in awe at the frozen wonderland.

"Colonized by humans fourteen hundred years ago, this planet was a pleasure planet for twelve hundred years. Over those twelve hundred years, so many employees moved here that it became a colony," the Doctor informs. Rose steps out of the TARDIS to see a sleigh being pulled by a form of horse, only twice as large and with a horn on it's head.

"Is that…?"

"Yep," the Doctor pops his 'p', "A genuine unicorn. Although, it doesn't possess magical properties."

"Wow."

"Yeah," the Doctor remembers something, "Hang on." He goes back into the TARDIS for a minute before emerging with a sleek, red sled.

"No way," Rose grins, "I've never been sledding. London doesn't get 'nough snow."

"Well then, Rose Tyler," the Doctor revels in the way the syllables trip off his tongue, "Let's go for a sleigh ride."

Rose pulls a thin string of sleigh bells from her pocket and shakes them, smiling as they jingle, "The TARDIS must have left them in there." She drapes them on the sled and the both grab the handle, pulling the sled up a white hill, listening to the cheerful jangle of sleigh bells.

"_Just hear those sleigh bells jingling, ring ting tingling to_," Rose sings.

The Doctor grins, "_Come on it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you._"

"_The snow if fallin' and friends are callin' 'you-who'_."

"_Come on it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you._"

Together they chorus, "_Giddy-up, giddy-up, giddy-up let's go. Let's look at the show._"

Rose sings soprano, "_We're ridin' in a wonderland of snow._"

"_Giddy-up, giddy-up, giddy-up it's grand, just holdin' your hand_."

The Doctor's baritone adds, "_We're gliding along with a song of a wintery fairy land._"

They both know the next lyrics and hesitate singing them as they reach the top of the hill, turning the sleigh around and sitting on it. Rose in the Doctor's lap, his arms around her middle as she grips the handles in her mittened hands.

Bravely, Rose continues to sing, "_Our cheeks are rosie and comfy cozy we're snuggled up…_"

She waits for the echo and the Doctor obliges softly, "_Together_."

"_Like two birds of a feather will be_," Rose continues.

"_Let's take the road before us and sing a chorus or two,_" the Doctor sings a bit stronger, "_Come on it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you._"

He then pushes off so they zoom down the hill, Rose clutching the Doctor's gloved hands that are wound around her waist.

They both whoop in happiness and exhilaration as the blades of the sled cut through the icy snow of the ground. The frozen water droplets flinging up in flurries behind them in their wake. With a bump over a hidden rock, the sled overturns, tossing the riders into a snow drift, the Doctor's hands being yanked from Rose's.

With a pop, the Doctor's head appears from the hill of snow and shakes the flakes from his frozen hair.

"Rose?" the Doctor clambers out of the snow bank to see Rose's pink mitten poking out of the snow, "_Rose_?"

As he approaches the mitten, the wind shifts and the mitten topples off of the snow bank, empty.

_Fwpuff!_ Something hits him in the back and he turns around to see Rose briefly before another snowball hits him in the face. He wipes the melting snow from his eyes to see Rose laughing with several more snowballs in her arms.

"Oh, you've asked for it now," the Doctor grins as he scoops up a handful of snow, patting it into a ball, "I've mastered the ancient art of snowball fighting. Taught by the monks of Semakin Bertambah."

"Well I was tutored by the street urchins of the Powell Estates, where we fought valiantly with ice mush and nearly gave ourselves frostbite every winter." Rose boasts, tossing another clump of snow at the Doctor and landing it atop his hair.

"Oi! Watch the hair! That does it, this is war!" The Doctor begins throwing as many snowballs as he can, shaping them quickly. But he is no match for Rose who pelts him continuously. There is no reprieve. No break during which she forms her snowballs. And even during all of this she builds herself a wall of snow to block the Doctor's own firepower.

Suddenly, it falls silent. Cautious, the Doctor pokes his head out of a hole that he dug himself with his feet while he shaped snowballs. The enemy wall is silent as the grave, no snowballs being launched over and the faint sound of crunching snow coming from his own trainers across the frozen ground.

"Rose Tyler you better not have died," the Doctor teases playfully, hiding his irrational fear as he inches closer, "What would I tell your mother?"

"That you were beat by a girl!" she cries as she launches an enormous snowball at the Doctor's face before tackling him to the ground. She laughs triumphantly as he splutters and attempts to get free. Hooking her feet over his thighs and her knees on his shoulders, she straddles his torso, pinning him to the ground.

"It appears that you have beaten me, Rose," the Doctor tells her woefully.

"Yes, I have," Rose answers smugly, "Wait, what do you mean 'appears'?"

"Because I know Venusian Aikido!" The Doctor flips over and pins Rose to the snow, laughing as the tables turned, "Now _I_ have beaten _you_."

"You smug bastard," Rose grins, "Although I wouldn't say I've lost."

"You wouldn't?"

"Not at all," she reaches up and presses her lips to his, and he stays on top for a while.


End file.
